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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28534704">i think about you all the time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobblestaubrey/pseuds/cobblestaubrey'>cobblestaubrey</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>c'est la vie [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Mutual Pining, Oh to be young and stupid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:02:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,411</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28534704</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobblestaubrey/pseuds/cobblestaubrey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"It gets to the point where she just has to say something, but she doesn’t really know how.</p><p>So she goes to Widow - who gives zero fucks about what anyone thinks of her - and Heidi - who is as chaotic in real life as she plays in Overwatch - because it makes sense. Widow has had a boyfriend for a year and a half and Heidi knows everything about everyone. They have to know something about feelings and all the stupid shit that comes with it."</p><p>Rock's got a crush, but she's also an idiot. These go hand in hand.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gigi Goode/Rock M Sakura</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>c'est la vie [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979863</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i think about you all the time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I like writing Rock because her inner monologue and the way she views the world is very similar to my own experiences. </p><p>I hope you like this!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It gets to the point where she just <em> has </em> to say <em> something</em>, but she doesn’t really know how.</p><p>Rock thinks of asking Jackie about this, but Jackie gives shit advice. She can’t even get her own head far enough out of her ass to tell Nicky how she feels, so why would Rock ask for any help about her own stuff?</p><p>So she goes to Widow - who gives zero fucks about what anyone thinks of her - and Heidi - who is as chaotic in real life as she plays in <em> Overwatch </em> - because it makes sense. Widow has had a boyfriend for a year and a half and Heidi knows everything about everyone. They <em> have </em> to know something about feelings and all the stupid shit that comes with it. </p><p>“I’m not telling you her name,” Rock starts it off, smirking when she hears Widow and Heidi scoff simultaneously.</p><p><em> “The Hell? We tell each other everything,” </em> Widow crackles through her headphones.</p><p>Rock rocks back and forth in her chair, laughing to herself. “Heidi’s gonna say something to her if I tell you.” She doesn’t actually think that, but she knows Heidi’s gonna be annoyed if she doesn’t know what girl Rock’s been thinking about the last few months. </p><p>Her playlists are pretty clear, she thinks. Jackie’s been bugging her about it, about all the crappy, sappy boyband shit and the songs about high class girls and being a complete loser about it all.</p><p>But Heidi doesn’t know her <em> Spotify </em> username, so that’s a secret. She’s gotten pretty good at keeping those.</p><p>Heidi scoffs again, but Widow laughs, a loud, boisterous sound that makes Rock happy. </p><p>But maybe she’s already happy.</p><p>
  <em> “You would do that.” </em>
</p><p>Rock grins triumphantly. “See?”</p><p>All in all, she’s probably not getting any good advice tonight, but it’s good to let it all out.</p><p>She can feel her heart racing just thinking about her. It’s ridiculous - she hasn’t felt this way since Nicky, but that was <em> so </em> long ago - it feels weird, now.</p><p>Heidi pipes up again, while Rock watches her screenshare. It’s some videos none of them are listening to, but they keep their eyes occupied while they talk. <em> “Can I guess what she looks like?” </em></p><p>She mulls it over for a second. “Uh, fine. Go for it.”</p><p><em> “Tall.” </em> Widow immediately replies.</p><p>“Fuck off... Yeah, she is,” Rock laughs, feeling her cheeks heat up. With Nicky, everything was stupid and fantastical, but it’s not like that anymore. She’s eighteen, and has a life, and friends, and <em> confidence</em>, and she guesses that was enough. She likes herself so much now, that someone else can like her, too.</p><p>
  <em> “Duh.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Blonde?”  </em>
</p><p>“Ha, no! Brown hair.”</p><p>
  <em> “But blue eyes?” </em>
</p><p>“They’re actually super dark,” she looks past her computer towards her wall, trying to picture her face, and squints her eyes even though she knows it won’t help. “They’re like, big, and brown.”</p><p>
  <em> “You’re a real poet, you know that?” </em>
</p><p>“Fuck off,” she groans again, letting her head rock backwards so it lies over her chair. She stares at where the ceiling meets the wall, listening to Heidi open a bag of chips right next to her fucking microphone. It doesn’t bother her as much as it usually does, probably because she’s sick with all that gushy shit she tried to avoid last year. “She’s just really pretty and stuff.”</p><p>Widow’s microphone is picking up the sound of her keyboard, as the older girl asks, <em> “And you actually talk to her?” </em></p><p>“Yep! Good one! I talk to her! We’re in math together.”</p><p>
  <em> “Romantic!” </em>
</p><p>“You know it!” She’s smiling now, a genuine smile, at the images of that stupid class she hated until January. It’s weird, how something so shit can become so good by accident. “But yeah. I dunno if she likes me but we talk a lot and she laughs at, like, everything I say.”</p><p>
  <em> “That’s awesome.”  </em>
</p><p>“Yeah,” Rock breathes out, still rocking herself back and forth in her swirly chair. It keeps herself breathing even, and her eyes from wandering around too much.</p><p>She needs to get her out of her head. All she’s been dreaming about these last couple of nights has been her, which makes waking up even worse.</p><p>
  <em> “You think you’ll ask her to prom?” </em>
</p><p>Rock shrugs, running her finger back and forth along her scroll wheel. “Honestly, last year I chickened the fuck out with Nicky and I spent like six months regretting it,” she says, thinking about Nicky, and Aiden, and all the stupid shit she did. “So... maybe? I’m sick of just wishing things were different.”</p><p>
  <em> “Definitely, go for it then.” </em>
</p><p>Rock nods to herself resolutely, before going back to watching Heidi’s screen share. </p><p>It’s silent for a moment, before Widow says, <em> “Is her name Gigi?” </em></p><p>Rock lets out an unnecessarily loud “<em>How</em>?!” that makes Widow and Heidi cackle. </p><p>
  <em> “The power of social media, baby!” </em>
</p><p><em> “</em><b><em>Gigi Goode</em></b><em>?” </em>Heidi shouts out, like this is some big deal (it is, but Rock refuses to admit it). </p><p>“Oh, fuck this!” </p><p>It actually feels really good to tell them, after all these months, especially when Heidi comments that she “noticed Gigi sending her some looks” she couldn’t quite decipher, but now make a lot of sense. </p><p><em> “Total heart eyes,” </em> is the final verdict.</p><p>She remembers last year, when Aiden told her that there was no way Nicky was leading her on, unless she was a horrible person who Rock shouldn’t have even been associating with, anyway.</p><p>But Nicky’s not a terrible person, not at all. </p><p>Still, it leaves Rock a little on edge, thinking that maybe all of this could be in her head, too. That Gigi’s looks, and her texts, and her <em> FaceTimes </em> were all just… her being nice. </p><p>Nicky never called her, though. Not like Gigi does.</p><p>Nicky never looked at her like Gigi does, like she hung the moon, or at least like she finally managed to throw a pencil so it sticks it to the ceiling (which is an equally impressive feat). </p><p>“So, do you guys think she likes me?” she asks softly, letting her eyes read over the last texts Gigi sent to her that night. It was just a simple ‘<em>Goodnight</em>’, but for the first time, Gigi’s typical blue heart emoji was a red one. So Rock took a chance, because she’s nothing but impulsive, and sent back her own ‘<em>gnight</em>’, but exchanged her usual ogre emoji with one of those pink double hearts, hoping Gigi sorta gets the memo.</p><p><em> “Only one way to find out.” </em> Rock can hear Widow’s grin from the other side of the States, but somehow she still lets Widow and Heidi convince her that the only way to ask is to <em> ask Gigi to prom</em>.</p><p>At midnight, Rock finally pries herself away from her computer, rubbing her eyes that have become red at the edges. </p><p>She stays awake, though, fishing the unused cardboard from her last school project out of her closet to cover it in all the glitter and color she can find in her house. Tiptoeing around her house to not wake her mom and sister feels worth it when she takes a step back and admires her work. She’s written some goofy pun about a show they both like, and all she hopes is that maybe, just maybe, this is the end of the uphill climb. </p><p>She knows she’s not the coolest, or the most desirable of all the girls in the grade, especially of the gay girls (come fucking on, Crystal, Nicky, <em> Jan</em>?), but she thinks maybe she doesn’t care about who Rock is or isn’t. </p><p>When she finally realizes she’s only gonna get two hours of sleep that night, she tries to close her eyes, but she just keeps picturing herself pulling out that poster over and over again. It’s sort of terrifying, but she knows from experience that whatever she thinks, is not what’s really going to happen. There’s no amount of scenarios she can picture to prepare herself.</p><p>She lets herself dream, just for a bit, though. </p><hr/><p>Rock clears her throat. </p><p>She’s in the middle of the cafeteria with a gigantic piece of cardboard behind her back, and she’s fucking terrified. The only reason these heart palpitations aren’t forcing her to run is because she knows no one will remember this a week from now. That’s what her therapist told her, and she agrees, but in the moment it’s giving her the worst anxiety she’s ever felt. </p><p>She mapped it out earlier that day, how she was gonna go about asking Gigi, but as soon as she saw the brunette in that white skirt and lilac turtleneck, sitting there eating her fucking <em> salad </em> for lunch, like a dork, she knew she was fucked.</p><p>Now, here she is, in front of Gigi Goode, with no plan.</p><p>Gigi twists around in her seat, offering Rock a small but intimate smile. </p><p><em> She’s so fucking beautiful</em>, is the first thing Rock thinks. Devastatingly beautiful, gorgeous, a total dream - whatever other synonyms she can think of, none of it matters - it doesn’t change the fact that Rock’s head over heels at this point and Gigi is beautiful.</p><p>“Hey,” is all Gigi says, tilting her head. She must know something’s up, because she probably wouldn’t have used that soft voice she uses when she’s, well, being soft.</p><p>Rock’s heard it a few times during their two-in-the-morning <em> FaceTimes</em>, because Gigi gets really sleepy and quiet as soon as the clock strikes eleven at night. She’ll purposefully put on her biggest sweatshirt so the sleeves go past her hands, and lie her phone on its side so she can snuggle into her pillow.</p><p>Fuck, wait, she’s doing something. She’s gotta stop thinking about Gigi and actually <em> talk </em> to Gigi.</p><p>“Um...” Okay. Bad start. But she has to keep going. “Hi.”</p><p>It’s silent for a moment, but Gigi doesn’t look awkward, and Rock doesn’t <em> feel </em>awkward, which is super weird but kinda great. </p><p>Gigi just keeps smiling, and sort of laughs to herself, but not at Rock at all. “Hello, Rock,” she says again, bringing her foot forward to hit Rock’s shin ever so lightly. </p><p>It makes Rock laugh a bit too, and she can feel the tension leaving her body. Gigi’s always had that effect on her, it’s unbelievably cool. </p><p>She drums her fingers on the board behind her, letting Gigi’s eyes flicker down to it, because it’s so clearly there. The brunette raises an eyebrow, gesturing her head downwards towards it.</p><p>Rock sighs. It’s now or never.</p><p>Stepping slightly back so Gigi can read it, Rock pulls out the poster board, closing her eyes for just a moment. </p><p>Gigi gasps, the tiniest bit. Her lips are slightly parted, and her left hand raises to somewhat cover her mouth, but it only reaches her chin.</p><p>Rock can see the rest of Gigi’s friends watching at the other side of the lunch table, but she’s not embarrassed. She’s proud. She’s happy, regardless of what Gigi says, or what anyone says.</p><p>The brunette is silent, her eyes looking all around the sign, and up at Rock, then a bit to the side to where one of her friends is sat. </p><p>This is killing her, because Gigi is saying <em>nothing</em>, and Rock is going to have a heart attack at eighteen. Is this what a midlife crisis feels like?</p><p>“So...” Rock starts, bending her neck to look down at her own poster, and then back at Gigi. “What do you say?”</p><p>Gigi stares for a second longer, before she starts laughing, a genuine laugh that sends Rock’s own laugh out as well, in bubbles. </p><p>“Okay,” the other girl finally says. </p><p>Rock can feel her stomach drop to her feet, but it weighs her down and keeps her knees from giving out. Her mouth drops, and she probably looks like an idiot, but Gigi looks like she’s been waiting for this question forever.</p><p>“Really?” Her heart is beating in her chest, like a fucking drummer has just spawned in an empty cavity.</p><p>Gigi looks at her, with the same, almost innocent smile, and stands. </p><p>Rock has to tilt her head up to meet her eye once more, but lowers her sign, just a bit. It allows Gigi to pull her in for a hug, leaning down just enough to say “of course, really” into her ear. </p><p>Rock can feel a million eyes on her, but she doesn’t give a shit. </p><p>She’s going to Prom with Gigi Goode. </p><p>“Is now a good time to tell you I’ve got a massive crush on you?” Rock says when Gigi pulls away, deciding to just ride the wind and say fuck it. </p><p>Gigi laughs again, and it’s fucking magical, Rock swears. “Yeah, I’ve got a stupid crush on you, too.”</p><p>This must be sorta what young love (or young like, she muses) feels like, because she’s not that excited that someone likes <em> her </em> or that her feelings are reciprocated, she’s more excited that she can Gigi can do couple stuff and she can treat Gigi the way she deserves to be treated.</p><p>Jackie told her a lotta stuff about what happened between Gigi and Crystal that she probably shouldn’t know, and not a lot of it was good. Even though her and Crystal have pretty similar tastes in girls and senses of humor, she hopes that’s where the similarities end.</p><p>Gigi invites her to sit with her group of friends, and it’s scary, because Symone and Kade are some of the coolest people ever, and the rest of her friends are all sorts of chaotic. </p><p>She says yes, though - of course - because this is the beginning of something new, and Jackie can deal having one lunch without her.</p><p>Under the table, Rock moves her hand, bit by bit, until it hits Gigi’s own, because she’s making a lot of big decisions today, so what's one more?</p><p>It’s all worth it when Gigi flips her hand around, lacing their fingers together. She can feel Gigi rubbing her thumb over her knuckle, which evens her breathing out pretty well, even though she still feels like she's dreaming. Gigi's hand is super cold, and her hand is a lot bigger, but it makes Rock feel safe, and sort of... loved? She shakes her head, trying to get that big of a word out of her mind.</p><p>The sigh she lets out is content, until remembers she left her lunchbox with her <em> Scooby Doo </em> gummy snacks in it at her other table.</p><p>Fuck.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comment if you enjoyed it I guess LOL</p></blockquote></div></div>
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